


Born In The Dark

by CourierNinetyTwo



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Body Horror, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 19:32:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/613465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CourierNinetyTwo/pseuds/CourierNinetyTwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regret takes many forms.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born In The Dark

Afterlife was quiet for once.

Aria knew the image of the club was one of perpetual hedonism, but she still needed her five hours a night and sometimes the doors had to be closed so the floor could be cleaned. Flashing neon could only cover so much.

It bled in lines of purple and red as the turian janitor pushed his scrubber around the curves of the bar and then back down the steps of the lower level. She was alone when the doors whispered shut behind him; even the primal static of the crowded tunnels couldn't reach her up here.

One touch of her omnitool would have turned the music back on, given Afterlife its heartbeat again. The cleaning fluid that polished chrome poles and tables alike cut like acid through the scent of sex, smoke, and eezo runoff. Aria could taste it on the back of her tongue, bitter and chemical. There was a cabinet full of liquor waiting for her to partake, but the silence was offering more comfort for the time being.

The soft scrape of a boot on a newly waxed floor broke the trance. One of the overhead projectors flickered as Nyreen stepped out of the shadows, hood concealing her crest and sharp yellow eyes. Aria watched the black robe engulf the shifting tones of the holo-column, drawing in color but getting nothing back. Nothing until the turian's crimson markings came into view, spreading across Nyreen's face like a blush.

Not that turians were capable of the act, as Nyreen had reminded her too many times. That didn't change the fact that despite the appearance of bone, the subtle grooves in Nyreen's brow and below the flare of her cheekbones could carry heat. Aria felt it every time the collar of her jacket was pulled aside and Nyreen's mouth sought her pulse.

Her attention wavered, eyes flickering to the glass in the turian's hand as she approached, the clear liquid within. Vodka, probably. Aria wouldn't trust the water from any tap on Omega that wasn't already in her apartment. Nyreen wouldn't either.

"Were you planning on being alone all night?" She asked. One talon caught on the hem of her hood, pulling it down.

Aria shrugged, feeling the leather tighten against her shoulders. "I was until you brought company."

Lifting the drink out of Nyreen's grasp, she took a sip and frowned.

"This doesn't taste like anything."

"Because it's not yours." Talons clicked against glass as Nyreen took it back. "Dextro alcohol will give you a lot more than a hangover."

Aria hummed in disapproval. A single swallow wouldn't kill her, but it really was better to watch the slender column of Nyreen's throat as the turian knocked back the drink. Three short lines were etched into the glass as it was set aside. Nyreen had gripped tight; her talons were growing back their edge.

One step forward and Aria was standing to meet her, palm cupping Nyreen's nape while the other arm slid around the turian's waist and forced their bodies to meet. The edges of Nyreen's hips pressed against her abdomen; even in heels, she was still a few inches shorter. Aria let her fingers drift over the thick scales that protected the back of the turian's skull, drawing a slow pattern between them.

There was a dull taste in her mouth, the alcohol trying to translate to her tongue, her blood. She tilted her head up, lips meeting Nyreen's. At least the turian could savor it. The exchange was brief, but Nyreen's hands settling on the small of her back made it clear the attention was welcome.

Aria bared one side of her neck, encouraging the soft scrape of Nyreen's tongue against her skin. She heard the nearly silent click of the turian's mandibles as Nyreen complied, breath catching at the sharp sensation as those talons bit between leather straps. They could cut right into her with just a little more pressure.

Nyreen's jaw widened, a low, flanging moan escaping. Aria's hand tightened against her nape, stroking the tense bands of muscle with slate blue fingertips. The turian whispered something she didn't catch, the syllables lost in the curve of her shoulder. Another click and Aria felt the impatient shifting of Nyreen's hips, rising friction against her stomach.

A soft hiss left Aria's lips. Her neck was slick, a liquid feeling trailing down to her collarbone. Nyreen's breath escaped in a cold exhale, provoking a shiver. Aria felt muscle flex and jerked away. The smell of blood lit up her senses; Nyreen's talons had broken the skin.

She couldn't form the words to ask, to chastise, when Nyreen's eyes were glowing blue. The biotic energy was chaotic, dancing across the turian's skin like lightning, flaring bright enough to show through her robes. A whimper, high and fearful, reverberated from Nyreen's throat before it was cut off.

The wet snap of bone broke the silence as Nyreen's mandibles cracked wide open, her scream muted to a gurgle when a tube jutted through her throat. Aria recoiled from the jet of blood, the ice-cold fluid trailing down her ribs like fingertips. She tried to close her hands into fists, but her joints were stiff, immobile. Her biotics wouldn't spark with Nyreen's eyes locked desperately on hers, disintegrating from within.

"No!"

Whose throat it came from didn't matter. Pebbled skin bulged and split, veins swelling until they burst into pulsing blue nodules. Blood dripped from the tube with every shaking breath, cobalt tears spilling from whatever ducts were left behind Nyreen's skull. Her sternum bent under the pressure, pushing organs out of place until her ribcage exploded outward, slicing through flesh and fabric alike. Oxygen forced itself through two sets of lungs, the first collapsing into rot, the other growing like tumors in the hollow of her chest.

Bile burned in Aria's mouth as she tried to breathe past the smell of ichor and ozone. Nyreen was drowning in front of her and she was frozen like a child, lips forming orders and pleas that emerged without a sound. Even as a shriveling husk, those eyes were begging her to make it stop. To end this before the thing Aria killed wasn't her anymore. It was the only mercy in the face of annihilation.

Nyreen's knees finally snapped, fusing into a wretched new shape to bear the weight of the spikes forced out of her spine. Aria's legs shook and gave out from under her, a viscous puddle of blood soaking through the leather. Balance was impossible to find as she grasped for Nyreen, trembling when her limbs refused to cooperate, trying to find purchase on the slick floor underneath.

Aria closed her eyes at the first guttural growl, the chilled exhale against the back of her neck.

\-----

Consciousness brought the immediate urge to vomit. Aria swallowed past the bitter sting, gulping down one breath after another until her lungs stopped burning with need.

She reached without looking, fingers closing around the glass on her nightstand. The whiskey burned too, but she needed something to kill the images, to push them back into her subconscious. Aria kicked away the silk sheets ensnaring her legs, stopping just short of sending the glass flying across the room.

Nyreen wasn't with her, not after she had mounted the assault on Afterlife, after the turian had taken a pack of adjutants out in one blast. The other side of Aria's bed had been empty for days going on weeks going on months.

Sitting all the way up, Aria squeezed her eyes shut. They watered, the nausea threatening to return, but she forced herself to stand. The floor was cold enough to make her tense, each rigid step towards the bathroom drawing goosebumps to the surface of her naked skin.

She cupped her hands beneath the tap, the automatic spray spilling over her palms so she could rinse out her mouth. Aria did it twice before giving up and catching sight of her reflection. That her eyes were bloodshot was no surprise, but most of the color had drained from her face, leaving only a chalky blue beneath the harsh light.

Glancing down, she traced the veins on the inside of one arm with hesitant fingertips. Her pulse was sluggish; three days without sleep courtesy of stimulants had finally bitten back. Aria knew she wasn't six hundred anymore, that the drugs were necessary to keep up with Omega's long nights when a riot or a gang feud broke out. The nightmare coming after was inescapable.

There were no nicks in her back, no blood, but the turian's presence was wrapped around her like a shadow. It would have been easy to say too little, too late. A hundred excuses on her tongue, each more hollow than the last.

"It's alright, Nyreen." She said out loud, closing her eyes once more. "Only one of us became a monster."

Aria turned off the light and waited for the silence to come again.


End file.
